A Year in the Life of Friends
by Dorain deNorthwood
Summary: A group of teenage RENTheads decide to do their own performance of RENT, and their lives change forever. It's a parallel story type thingamabob...I'm no good at summaries, but please don't judge the story by that fact. ON HOLD INDEFINITELY.
1. Marshmallows and Beer

A/N: I must tell you, before you read this, that some traits of some of the characters in this story are based on people I know. However, certain qualities of the characters, such as drug and alcohol problems, are fictional.

I do not own RENT. Furthermore, I do not own the "If Camille smiles and nothing's funny, run" quote, it's based on something a teacher of mine once said. Likewise the "how do you go about getting a life anyway?" part, that's from something a friend of mine wrote in a letter.

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Emily grinned as she surveyed her friends by the light of the campfire. Camille and Bri, each with and ear bob, singing along to the Linkin Park tune currently playing on Camille's MP3 player. Matt and Will, the school's only gay couple, sitting on the ground and talking to each other in low voices. And Katie, curled up in a lawn chair, focused on the notebook in her hand. All of Emily's closest friends had come to celebrate her fifteenth birthday. A wave of contentment washed over her, and she found herself grinning like a fool.

"Hey, Em, gimme the graham crackers," said Matt. Emily snapped out of her reverie and handed him the package. He had already gathered the bag of marshmallows and a chocolate bar from the huge pile.

"I'm making smores, who wants another one?" he said.

"Sounds great. Thanks, Matt," replied Katie, looking up from her notebook.

"Could you make me two?" asked Camille.

"Sure," Matt said, pulling marshmallows out of the bag.

Matt busied himself with roasting marshmallows. He handed a smore first to Will, then to Katie, and then two to Camille.

"Em, this is the best party you've ever had," declared Camille after taking one bite of her first smore.

"Yeah, we actually get to have a fire this year," added Bri.

"Pyro," said Will.

"Hell yes I am, wanna make something of it?" replied Bri with a grin.

"Apparently, my mom thinks that now we're mature enough not to burn down the neighborhood," Emily said, gesturing to the darkened house that stood not fifty feet away. Camping out in her backyard was a birthday tradition.

"She's wrong. We won't start any fires, but that doesn't make us mature," said Matt scornfully. "Who wants some booze?"

"Sure," said Bri. Camille nodded. Matt took two bottles out of his backpack, along with a bottle opener, and handed them to the girls.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," said Katie quietly.

"Don't be a spoilsport, Katie!" said Matt loudly, but Camille and Bri looked a little bit guilty. An awkward silence fell over the group, broken only by the faint sound of Camille's MP3 player.

Camille looked around morosely at the group. Why did this always happen? Everything was great until some tiny spark of disagreement made them all miserable. Then a thought struck her. She started skipping songs feverishly, much to Bri's unspoken annoyance, until she found what she was looking for. Then she paused the song and looked up at her friends.

"I am going to sing La Vie Boheme!" she declared dramatically. "Who will join me?"

Without further ado, she pressed play and said in a high voice "Who died?"

"Our Akita," replied Bri gravely.

"Evita!" yelled Will and Matt.

Bri continued in the same serious voice. "_You make fun, yet I'm the one attempting to do some good. Or do you really want a neighborhood where people piss on your stoop every night? Bohemia, Bohemia's a fallacy in your head. This is Calcutta; Bohemia is dead._"

Camille began, "_Dearly beloved, we gather here to say our goodbyes…_"

She looked around and realized that Katie had joined in. Emily, Matt, Will, and Bri were all singing along.

"…_Here she lies,_

_No one knew her worth, the late great daughter of Mother Earth_

_On these nights when we celebrate the birth_

_In that little town of Bethlehem,_

_We raise our glass, you bet your-_

"PICKLE!" screamed Bri and Camille. It was how they censored the songs when singing them after drama club rehearsals or at church.

"_To…la vie boheme!_

_La vie boheme!_

_La vie boheme!"_

There was a momentary pause, then Bri sang,

"_To days of inspiration,_

_Playin' hooky, makin' somethin' out of nothin',_

_The need to express, to communicate,_

_To going against the grain, going insane, going mad._

_To loving tension, no pension, to more than one dimension_

_To starving for attention, hating convention, hating pretension,_

_Not to mention, of course, hating dear old Mom and Dad!_

_To riding your bike midday past the three-piece suits,_

_To fruits, to no absolutes, to Absolut,_

_To choice, to the Village Voice, to any passing fad!_

_To being an us for once, instead of a them!_

_La vie boheme!_

By now they were practically screaming, none of them caring that they were in the middle of a nice neighborhood at one in the morning.

"Hey mister…" said Camille, then she and Emily said in unison, "She's my sister."

"So that's five, um…" said Camille.

"…miso soup four seaweed salad three soy burger dinner two tofu dog platter and one pasta with meatless balls," chanted Katie without missing a beat. Camille stared at her. She just grinned.

"Where were we?" asked Emily.

"…_13 orders of fries, is that it here?_" sang Bri. There was an uncomfortable silence. Everyone knew that the next two lines dealt with alcohol. Camille waited, then picked up with,

"_To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese,_

_To leather, to dildos, to curry vindaloo,_

_To huevos rancheros and Maya Angelou!_

_Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion,_

_Creation, vacation-_"

"MUCHO MASTURBATION!" they all screamed. A light came on in the house next door, but they didn't care.

"_Compassion, to fashion, to passion- when it's new!_

_To Sontag, to Sondheim, to anything taboo!_

_Ginsburg, Dylan, Cunningham and Cage,"_

"Lenny Bruce!" whooped Matt.

"Langston Hughes!" finished Will.

"To the stage!" shrieked Emily.

"To Uta!"

"To Budddha!"

"Pablo Neruda, too…"

"_Why Dorothy and Toto went over the rainbow_

_To blow off Auntie Em!_

_La vie boheme!"_

"Sisters?" said Bri.

"We're close," everyone chorused.

"Da dadada da-dum, da dadada dum…" hummed Emily.

"Brothers!" yelled Will and Matt.

"_Bisexuals, trisexuals, homo sapiens_

_Carginogens, hallucinogens, men,_

_Peewee Herman!_

_German wine, turpentine, Gertrude Stein,_

_Antonioni, Bertolucci, Kurasawa,_

_Carmina Burana!_

_To apathy, to empathy, to entropy, Ecstasy,_

_Vaclav Havel! The Sex Pistols 8BC!_

_To no shame, never playin' the fame game,_

_To marijuana!_

_To sodomy, it's between God and me,_

_To S&M!_

_La vie boheme!"_

Suddenly Camille paused the song and yelled,

"Stop singing for a sec, I just had a brilliant idea!"

"Brilliant enough to interrupt the most brilliant of songs?" asked Will dryly.

"Yes," said Camille with a huge grin on her face.

"If Camille smiles and nothing's funny, run," said Emily. "Spit it out, what's this crazy idea of yours?"

"We need to put on RENT. You know, all of us, as the cast, on a stage in front of our friends and family, etc.?"

"Are you seriously suggesting we sing that in the presence of our parents?" said Will. "You need a reality check."

"We probably won't be able to keep them away," said Camille reasonably. "But seriously, though, doesn't it sound fun?"

"Where would we put it on? Mrs. Tarlin is a great teacher, but she'd never let us do RENT in drama club, and besides, it's summer," pointed out Emily.

"We can do it at church," said Camille breezily.

"What, and yell PICKLE every other word?" said Bri. "I think that beer's going to your head."

"We could say it was a lesson in tolerance. The congregation in general didn't mind when Matt came out, after all," said Camille. Matt nodded in agreement.

"Okay, assuming by some miracle we talk Reverend Flaherty into letting us use the stage in the basement- no way would we be able to do it in the sanctuary- who will play who?" said Emily.

"Are you admitting that this crazy plan has a snowball's chance in hell of happening?" asked Will incredulously.

"Hey, it's fun to think about, anyway," said Emily. "Will, you wanna be Collins?"

"If you pull this off, I'll play anybody you want me to play." said Will.

"And Matt, you'll be Angel, right?" said Bri.

"Sure thing. All I'll have to change is the color of my nail polish," giggled Matt, holding up his nails for inspection. They were metallic purple.

"What about you, Camille, Oh-genius-one-who-came-up-with-this? Who are you going to play?" asked Emily.

"Joanne, of course. The genius, as you said," Camille told her with a falsely snobby look on her face. They both laughed.

"You should be Maureen, Emily darling, you look just like her," said Bri.

"Okay," agreed Emily, "that leaves Mimi, Mark, and Roger."

"I'll be Mimi, as long as we censor the moves for Out Tonight. No way am I doing that dance if our dads, and Camille's brother, will be in the audience." said Bri.

Bri as Mimi. It was an interesting parallel in Emily's opinion, although she didn't say so out loud. Bri wasn't the only member of their group with alcohol problems, but she had also been known to dabble in…other things. Marijuana, a little cocaine. The whole group knew, although it was rarely mentioned for fear of the resulting awkwardness and anger.

"So, Mark and Roger…" Camille trailed off, looking at Katie. The girl's short blonde hair was a mess, and she was wearing contacts instead of glasses, but still…

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Camille said quietly to Bri.

"If I know you and your evil little brain, then yes," replied Bri.

Camille leaned over and tapped Katie on the shoulder.

"What?" said Katie, looking up abruptly from her notebook.

"You get to be Mark."

"What? Oh, hell no, guys, come on-" protested Katie.

"Aw, Katie, it'll be fun!" said Bri. "It could be worse, you could be playing a stripper like I just volunteered to."

"But I- but- Mark kisses Maureen, though, at the beginning of La Vie Boheme!"

"I'd forgotten that. We can cut that part out, no problem. How many times have you watched RENT, anyway, that you would remember that?" Camille added, eyebrow raised.

"A lot," said Katie mildly.

"Get a life," Camille said.

"How does one go about getting a life, anyway?" asked Emily.

"I don't know, but I bet they sell them at the mall," joked Katie.

"No. Fuck the mall," said Camille firmly. "Anyway, you've kissed me before, what's wrong with Emily?"

"I- but- that was a truth or dare game! Besides, it's not just me! Will is the only person here who HASN'T kissed you!"

"I wasn't bragging, I was just-"

"You kissed Camille?" interrupted Will in his quiet, intense voice. He was staring at Matt.

"In my own defense, honey, that was before we were going out,' said Matt.

"Ah," said Will, but Emily could tell he was still hurt. Matt didn't notice.

"Katie, if we actually put on RENT, and you play Mark, I'll buy you a hardcover book of your choice," Matt told her.

"Okay, but I'm going to hold you to that," Katie said reluctantly.

"Awesome!" said Matt. "I'll let you borrow my Mark scarf, and the coat- I let everybody sign it at the end of the year, but it's still very Markish…" he babbled on and on, and Katie couldn't help grinning.

"What about Roger?" asked Emily.

"Oh yeah, I'd almost forgotten about him…" muttered Camille. Bri, however, spoke up enthusiastically.

"I'll try and recruit Jared McClellan to play Roger! He's a RENT-head, and he can sing really well, I've seen his band perform before."

"You just want an excuse to kiss him," said Camille.

"So? He'd be a good Roger anyway."

"I guess it's settled, then," said Camille. "We're performing RENT."

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Author's Note: Well, I haven't updated this story in forever...but I think I might just finish it this summer. Anyhoo, here's this chapter edited and slightly redone- the next two should be up in their edited forms soon. The edits are necessary due to slight plot and character tweaks. And hopefully I'll have chapter 4 up within the next couple of weeks!


	2. Cell Phones and Brat Brothers

Disclaimer: I don't own RENT.

A/N: I may not have made this entirely clear in the last chapter, but Bri, Camille, and Matt all go to the same church.

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**Katie's Diary**

6/14

Em's party was the usual madness. Her mom finally let us have a fire this year, so there was much eating of marshmallows and chocolate, etc. Matt brought booze, of course.

He called me a spoilsport for asking Bri and Camille not to drink it. Doesn't he see? Camille doesn't drink as much as she did last year, and she seems happier for it, but Bri's just getting worse. I worry about her. Some day she's going to get really drunk and do something stupid that screws up her life. And that's to say nothing of her drug habit. She really needs help, but every time I try and bring it up, either she gets pissed or Matt says something weird.

Speaking of Matt, Camille decided after half a bottle that we needed to perform RENT. I was recruited to play…Mark. How fucked up is that? Matt bribed me to do it; any hardback book of my choice. Maybe I'll replace my copy of Eldest, Eileen lost it when I let her borrow it…

I suppose that in a way, having me play Mark almost makes sense. I mean, sure, there's a resemblance: blonde hair, glasses, not exactly skinny and not exactly fat…utterly plain, actually, that's me. And of course I'm a geek. Camille may be on the academic team, but so am I, and besides, she doesn't have a book or a notepad as a permanent extension of her arm like I do, figuratively speaking.

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Bri held her cell phone in both hands, staring at the screen. Jared's number glowed there. She sighed; it was now or never, after all. She jabbed the call button and raised the phone to her ear.

One ring. Two rings.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Jared? This is Bri Anderson. Remember me, I was in your World History class last year?"

"Yeah, the one with the nose piercing, right?" he asked. She responded with a carefree laugh.

"That's me. Anyhow, Camille Franklin wants to do a performance of RENT. We have the space, we're collecting the props, and we have all the Bohemians but one. We need Roger. I remembered that you were a RENT-head, and God knows you can sing, so we decided that you would be the best one for the part," she said, then held her breath as she waited for his answer.

"You're serious?" He sounded blown away.

"Dead serious," she replied.

"I'd love to play Roger."

"Thanks!" she said excitedly.

"Who else is going to be involved? And who's playing Mimi? he asked, the excitement in his voice mirroring her own.

"Well, we've got Matt and Will as Angel and Collins," she said. She didn't need to tell him their last names. Everyone at West High School knew the couple. "And, um, Emily Wolf and Camille as Maureen and Joanne- no they're not actually lezzies, before you ask, although Camille is bi- Katie Donaldson as Mark because we were running out of guys, and me as Mimi."

"Awesome. Who's Benny?"

She paused.

"I don't know," she finally said. "Camille seems to have forgotten him. I'll call her and get it straightened out, though, don't worry."

"Okay, cool. When's rehearsal?"

"Thursday at seven, in the basement of First Presbyterian Church. See you there!" she said.

"Yeah, see you." He hung up, and she did likewise.

"Yesss!" she squealed. In a daze of happiness, she typed in Camille's cell number.

"Hey, Bri, what up my homie?" said Camille in one of her crazier voices.

"Jared agreed to play Roger hahahahaha yes!" said Bri.

"Well, that's good, but remember it's not like he asked you out. He only agreed to play your character's boyfriend," said Camille.

"He agreed to put himself in a situation that would involve kissing me. Logically, he must like me. Anywho, he also pointed out that we have no Benny."

"Shit, I knew we were forgetting something," said Camille.

"Can you think of anybody we could find to play Benny? Rehearsal's tomorrow," pointed out Bri.

There was silence. On the other end, Camille finally said,

"If worst comes to worst, we can recruit Tim as a temporary stand-in."

"Your brat brother? No way, he'd screw everything up!" protested Bri.

"Just as a temporary stand-in," Camille repeated. "Until we can find one of the boys from drama club who'd be willing to do it."

"Okay. See ya," said Bri.

"Right, catch you later,' sighed Camille. She closed the phone with a snap.

"Tim," she called. "Where are you?"

There was no answer. Swearing under her breath, Camille walked down the hall to the TV room. No Tim. She looked in the kitchen. No Tim. She climbed the stairs and looked in his room. No Tim. She walked back down the stairs, wondering miserably where he could possibly be. Then she stopped in her tracks. A faint sound was coming from her mom's room. Listening more closely, she recognized it as Simple Plan. She opened the door and stepped inside.

There was Tim, sprawled lazily on their mom's bed. His boombox had been turned down just enough that the sound of the TV could also be heard. She walked over to the TV and switched it off.

"What the fuck did you do that for?" whined Tim, acknowledging her presence for the first time since she'd entered the room.

"Apparently, you couldn't hear me," she said, walking over to switch off the boombox as she spoke. "I called for you."

"I heard," he said, turning the TV back on.

"Then why didn't you answer? And you know you're not allowed in here, this is Mom's room," she said, glaring daggers at her little brother. Sometimes the only thing preventing her from beating him about the head was the threat of motherly justice.

He didn't say anything, he just went right on watching TV.

"We need another actor for our play."

Silence.

"You'd be playing a rich black guy whose ex-girlfriend is a stripper," she tried. Any mention of anything sexual was usually enough to perk up her perverted excuse for a brother.

Nothing.

"I'll give you three dollars per rehearsal."

"I want five."

"You'll get five,' she conceded. There goes my vacation money, she thought miserably. I really need to contact the boys from drama club, I suspect Bri was right about him screwing everything up.

"You got yourself a deal," he said, his eyes never leaving the TV screen. She sighed and left the room.

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Emily was sitting at home, eating a late lunch, when her cell phone rang. She looked at the screen; it was Will. She pressed talk and raised the phone to her ear.

"Hey, Will, what's up?" she asked.

"Em? Yeah, I was just, um, calling to talk."

His voice sounded odd and his breath came in gasps, as though he had been crying.

"About Matt?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah."

Emily sighed.

"You know, the thing with Camille was before he was dating you. At least he didn't cheat."

"Yes, but- he didn't see how miserable I was when I heard that, he didn't care, and he never does. You know that we're only dating each other because there are no other fish in the sea, but I still wish he would give me a little more respect. A little more attention."

Emily felt terrible for him. It was true that they were only dating because any boyfriend is better than none at all, but what he said was true. Matt's life was endless drinking and endless fun, and he didn't always have time for Will. Maybe the problem was that they were so different, like Maureen and Joanne, thought Emily. Matt was like the bitchy diva, always living in the moment without a care for anyone else in the world, and Will was the quiet intellectual who was coming to the end of his rope.

"I don't know what to tell you," she said. For a few long moments, neither of them said anything.

"Katie said that I was the only one who hadn't kissed Camille," Will said finally in an attempt to lighten the mood of the conversation. "What about you?"

"Have I kissed Camille? Yes, through various truth-or-dare games over the past couple of years, she has managed to kiss me, Katie, and Bri. None of us were surprised when she told us she was officially bisexual, I can tell you that," she said. They both laughed.

"Wow, I don't see how you would ever agree to kiss her!" Will said.

"It was on a dare! And besides, she is really nice even if she is fat. If I were a lesbian, she'd probably be my first choice of a girlfriend,' she said, jumping to her friend's defense. "Hey, would it cheer you up if I came over and gave you a makeover? I'm not doing anything this afternoon except sitting around on my ass watching TV."

"With your makeup?" he asked, mischief replacing the sadness in his voice.

"Is there anything _wrong _with my makeup?" she asked, pretending to be offended.

"In all honesty, you usually look like a sleep-deprived vampire," he said. "Maybe I should give you a makeover too."

"Sleep-deprived vampire my ass!" she laughed. "All right, I'll let you give me a makeover too. I'll be right over."

"Right, see you soon," Will said.

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A/N: Sorry it was so short, and sorry it was lacking in RENT lyrics and such. But I had to set up the plot(s) somehow…anyway, please review!


	3. He Died, His Name Was Bryan

Disclaimer: I don't own RENT. I don't possess the brilliance required to write a musical at all, let alone such a mind-blowing one. Thank you, Jonathan Larson.

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Jared walked in the back door of First Presbyterian Church at ten til seven, not quite knowing what to expect. He knew Bri and had a vague memory of Camille, and of course knew Matt and Will by reputation, but he wasn't close to any of them. He tended to stick to his own social group, namely his band, and he was a little worried that he wouldn't be able to find a niche in what was apparently an already close-knit social circle.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of music blasting from a nearby room. He opened the door, and most of his fears immediately vanished.

Bri and Camille were standing on a table dancing like crazy people. The song that was playing so loudly was "Out Tonight." They were singing, or rather yelling, along. I hope that Camille's actual singing voice is better than the one she's using now, he thought wryly.

When Bri noticed him, she jumped off the table and ran to greet him. Her face was flushed from dancing. She looked even better than he remembered. She was wearing long jeans and a purple tank top with a silver skull-and-crossed-guitars on it. The little diamond stud in her nose glittered.

"Um, hi," he said.

"Hi, Jared," she said with a smile. She has a beautiful smile, he thought. Why did I never notice that before?

Camille got down from the table a little more carefully than Bri had and turned down the volume on the stereo. She walked over to them.

"All right, I think everybody's here," she said. "Katie, what time is it?"

"Seven til seven," replied Katie, glancing at her watch.

"Wow, that's gotta be a record. We were all early… that's scary. Anyhow, hi, Jared. I guess you know Bri, and I'm Camille, but this is Matt-" she indicated a boy with shaggy brown hair whose jeans were covered in colored duck tape-"and Will-" she pointed to the other boy, a tall sort of guy with short, dark hair wearing a pink and black hoodie-"and Emily, but you can call her Em-" a skinny girl with long brown hair who was sitting on a table waved at him-"and Katie." She pointed to a girl with curly blonde hair who was sitting on the floor with a pencil and a notebook. She nodded at him, then went back to writing.

"Oh, and my brother Tim is going to be our Benny, for now anyway, but he isn't here. Today isn't going to be so much a practice as a planning session, and besides, I have to pay him five bucks per rehearsal."

Jared chuckled. These people didn't seem so bad. They were all obviously raving lunatics, but so was he, after all.

"All right, people, everybody pull up a chair and let's decide just how we're going to go about this," said Camille. They took their seats in the chairs around the table Emily had been sitting on. Camille pulled a folded-up piece of paper out of her pocket.

"I watched RENT yesterday and put together a list of essential props for each character. My thought had been that we would all get the props for our characters. Is that okay for everyone?" she asked briskly. Jared was astonished that she was so businesslike. She's really serious about this, he realized.

"Katie, let's see, you're going to use Matt's scarf and jacket, right? So you only need to bring an old video camera, a bike, your glasses, and a red sweater. Plus any other little Mark-type things you think of."

"Yes to everything but the bike," said Katie. "There's no room on the stage to ride around, and besides, I don't know how."

"You don't?" asked Matt incredulously.

"No, I never bothered learning," replied Katie.

"Okay, I'll cross off the bike then…Bri, you need whatever 'censored'" Camille made quote marks in the air with her free hand, "costume you're using for 'Out Tonight,' a leopard print coat if you can find it, a pink outfit thingy like the one Mimi wears in 'Light My Candle,' a candle, obviously, black leather boots, an outfit like the one Mimi wears in La Vie Boheme – including the fishnets, I insist that you wear them, you'll look hilarious - a little bag of baking soda, and any other little things you think of."

"Where the hell am I going to find a leopard print coat?" asked Bri.

"You can use my leopard print bathrobe," said Emily.

"Okay..." agreed Bri.

"Em, you'll need some dress you can use in Tango: Maureen, an outfit for the protest, a black tank top with a dragon on it, black spandex pants, a white jacket, etc. Will, you'll need a black hat-type-thingymabob-"

"A beanie, you mean," Will interjected.

"Whatever," Camille said, but she was grinning as she said it. "A black hat-type-thingymabob-" she stuck out her tongue at Will, "a leather coat, that vest thing that Collins wears, and an empty bottle of vodka."

"Does it have to be empty?" asked Matt.

"Yeah, unless you want us to drink it here, at church, where some old lady who knows our parents might happen across us at any time," Camille said.

"Oh, fine," sulked Matt.

"Matt darling, you need a ten-gallon pickle tub, drumsticks, a leather tote bag, and some Angel outfits. You can borrow some of our clothes for that, if you want," Camille added.

Matt looked thoughtful for a moment, a rare thing for him, then looked up and said, "No, I'll buy the Angel outfits myself. The wigs, too." He smiled. "I've always to try on a wig, you know? A beautiful blonde wig, something like your hair, maybe," he said, indicating Katie's shoulder-length curls. Jared squirmed uncomfortably.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to me. You'll learn to love me eventually," Matt said, seeing the look on Jared's face.

"Not if you talk like that, he won't," said Camille. "Jared, you'll need a black leather jacket, a blue plaid vest - you could probably find one at Salvation Army, in fact that's probably the only place you could find one – a pack of matches, and of course a guitar."

"Hmm…I probably shouldn't use my own guitar. I don't think Roger had stuff written all over his," Jared said.

"Could you borrow one from one of your bandmates?" asked Bri.

"Well, theirs are just as personalized as mine. There is my brother's guitar, of course…" he trailed off.

"So use it, then," said Matt.

"I didn't know you had a brother," said Bri.

"He's dead," said Jared softly.

"Oh, Jared, I'm so sorry," said Bri. "I wouldn't have said anything if I'd known."

"There was no way for you to know, I don't know any of you all that well," said Jared, staring at his shoes. "It happened before we moved here, anyway."

An uncomfortable silence descended on the room.

"So, um, what are we going to do about the guitar?" said Matt finally. Will glared at him, "you insensitive brute" written all over his face.

"I'll use Bryan's, my brother's that is," said Jared heavily. "I don't think he would have minded. In fact, I think he would have liked the idea."

"Okay," said Camille slowly. "And…um…we'll also need three tables, two sets of "stage stairs," one for each side of the stage; an old beat-up sofa and an armchair or two; a round coffee table; some kind of backdrop - Bri, do you think your mom could paint one for us?"

"Yeah, I'm sure she'd be happy to," said Bri.

"Your mom's an artist?" asked Jared.

"Well…technically, she's a real estate agent, but she paints in her spare time, yeah," said Bri.

"Cool," said Jared. He gave Bri a small smile. She smiled back.

Camille paused for a moment, looking back and forth between the two of them. Then she reluctantly broke the silence.

"Okay, we'll need some folding chairs, obviously, for the Life Support scenes, La Vie Boheme, etc.; a microphone for Maureen's protest; and I also think it would be really cool if we had that moon made of wheels and stuff for the protest. I'm going to the dump tomorrow to find some stuff to make it with, actually."

"I'll go too. I think Maureen should help build her own props," said Emily.

"Awesome, it'll be a helluvalot more fun with you there," said Camille. "Hey, have any of you already eaten dinner? Cause my mom gave me plenty of money if we want to go get something, or maybe order a pizza."

"Oh my God, I have pizza _withdrawal_, I haven't had any in forever," said Matt.

"What about the rest of you, is pizza okay?" Camille asked.

"Hell yes! When is pizza not okay!" said Bri.

"Right, what topping do we want?" said Camille.

"Sausage," said Bri.

"I second that," said Katie. "What about you, Em?"

"Cheese."

"Pepperoni," said Will.

"Sausage, of course," said Matt.

"Oh, uh, anything works okay for me," said Jared.

"Right." Camille went to go get a directory from the church office.

"Anybody want a soda? There's a vending machine down the hall," said Bri. "Jared, can I get you anything?"

"Yeah, I guess a Dr. Pepper would be good. Thanks," said Jared. Bri flashed him another of her dazzling smiles and left the room.

"Soda sounds good, eh Will?" said Emily.

"Sure," he said. He, Matt, and Emily also left the room. Jared was alone with Katie. Neither of them spoke. She didn't even give a sign that she knew he was there, she just pulled out her notebook and began to write.

"So…you're Katie, right?" he finally said. "And you're playing Mark?"

"Yeah," she said, putting down her pencil and looking up at him. He raised an eyebrow.

"It's not that I wanted to play a guy, it's that Camille was a little drunk when we first started planning this, and she absolutely insisted. Normally even that wouldn't be enough, but Matt said he'd buy me any hardback book I wanted if I played Mark, so I'm not complaining," she explained.

"Oh. Hey, uh, is Bri always that nice, offering to get people sodas and stuff?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Offering to get _you _a soda, you mean. I have to hand it to her, she has a way with boys."

"You think she likes me?" he asked, eyes wide.

"Well, if I didn't at least suspect that she did, I probably would have gone after you myself by now," she said, then blushed as she realized she had said it.

"Shit, I did it again. Every time I open my mouth I say something stupid…just forget I said anything, I'm sorry," she mumbled. She went back to writing in her notebook.

Jared was quiet for a moment, then he tried again to strike up a conversation.

"What are you writing?"

"Oh, nothing. A book."

He whistled. "That doesn't fit my definition of 'nothing.' What's it about?"

She shrugged, then said, "Racial tension. Religious fanaticism. Poverty. All the problems of the world rolled into one volume along with dragons, griffons, and all sorts of fun. I doubt it'll ever get published, but it keeps me occupied."

"Like Mark and his documentary," Jared said.

"Sure, if you want to think of it that way," she said.

"So, you're like a bookworm, right?" he asked.

"_The _bookworm," she replied. "And you're the lead singer of a band. It would never have worked, anyway." She shrugged again.

"How did a bookworm come to be friends with someone as crazy as Bri?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, back in elementary school we were the only two in the class who weren't preppy beyond all reason, so we had to stick together," she said.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of laughing voices in the hall. Shortly, the door opened again and Emily, Bri, Will and Matt came back into the room.

"Sorry we took so long. The damn machine ate Matt's dollar, so we had to go to the one upstairs instead," said Bri, walking over to Jared. She handed him a can of Dr. Pepper, then sat on the table close to him to drink her own.

"You owe me a dollar," Matt informed her.

"Suck it up, I bought you a soda, didn't I?" she said.

Camille returned not long afterward.

"Two sausage pizzas and a hlf-pepperoni-half-cheese will be here in about half an hour," she said. "Until then, we should probably get back to work."

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

A/N: Sorry that I updated later than planned. This chapter was a little harder to write. By the way, I should tell you now that there will be no Jared/Katie/Bri love triangle. I'll just have to suppress the inner Mark/Roger shipper... Don't despair, there will be more lyrics, but probably not until they start actually practicing songs. The next chapter will be the second half of this first rehearsal. Keep reading, and please review!


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